Hello again, my lovelies! Wow, so it's just been almost another year since we've seen each other! Hope you all are doing okay!

So, this idea popped in my head when I reread a few chapters. This series is one of the few stories of mine that I actually enjoy rereading x) Anyway, I wasn't sure how to start writing it… Then I listened to Home from the BatB Broadway Musical, and this chapter came together!

… however, that means this chapter touches on some emotions…

Tears may be shed or feelings will be felt, be warned just in case!

Despite this, I do hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it! This is also the longest chapter I've ever written! In case anyone wants to know ;) About 9,000 words!

And this is for sure in the top five of my personal favorite chapters from this story!

Happy Reading!

.x.

Set after Chapter 51

Warning: frightening imagery, temporarily implied major character deaths, reliving trauma/pain

Summary: Recent events have brought up feelings Belle thought she buried long ago.
Number of years married: 16
Sons: 5
Daughters: 2


~:~ Home ~:~

Belle jolted awake. Something woke her, but she didn't know what it was. She waited and listened. Perhaps she had heard a sound - a distant cry for her from her children. She listened.

Nothing.

The room was utterly chilled as if winter was just outside the window - sitting there, she could feel just how cold it was. Winters were harsh but never this harsh… perhaps they were in for a storm later.

Maybe stormy sounds woke the young ones-

She should go check on them, one little look would calm her nerves. She started to move but she couldn't. She frowned and looked to the side. She wiggled her hand, her wrist was tied to the bedpost.

"What the-" she managed. She pulled again and the knot loosened. She quickly looked around. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end when she realized she was not at home. The wooden walls of their room did not greet her. Instead the wall were a baby blue with gold furnishings.

What had happened? How had she not remembered or at least woken up when she was taken here. She scoffed - she hadn't seen such intricacies since that talking clock and candlestick brought her to that room at the beast's castle.

She paused her fight with the knot at her other wrist.

The beast!

No, it couldn't be! He was dead! She had killed him!

No, no, no, this wasn't real- this wasn't real!

She hurriedly pulled at the knot again and again, twisting and turning her wrist, ignoring the way the rope burned against her skin. With a slight wince, she pulled her hand free. No, no, this had to be some sort of cruel joke! The beast had been killed a long time ago!

She rubbed her sore wrists and stopped-

She brought her arm closer and noticed scratches on her skin as if whoever had tied those knots had long nails and was very careless… like a beast. She shook her head. No, there had to be another explanation-

He. Was. Dead-

A metallic clatter across the room brought her out of her thoughts. Her eyes went wide and her blood cooled in her veins. "No. No, it can't be. I'm not really here," she rasped weakly. She fumbled around for purchase on anything to get away the magical teapot teetering toward her.

Oh what was her name… Mrs Potts! She had a sympathetic look on her ceramic face. "Oh, you gave us a right fright, dearie. Climbing out of that window. You fell and hit your head and hurt your ankle, to boot. Then- well, it's not my place to say." She looked reluctant, but she shook her head and gave a pleased smile. "The good news is that you're alright now."

Belle found her strength and stood on slightly trembling legs. She stumbled to the window and touched the threshold. The memory of maneuvering the silken rope out the window came jarring back to her. She jumped away from the window like it had burned her.

At Mrs Potts' look, she realized her head was shaking. "No, no, I escaped- I have a life in Villeneuve- What am I doing here?" she asked herself more than Mrs Potts.

"You'll find out soon enough," Madame Garderobe said, her voice coated in pity.

Belle blinked. "I'll find out- soon enough? What-"

The door opened suddenly. Belle's eyes met the beast's - they were still human-like, blue… cold as the cursed snow that fell outside. Her gaze hardened and she gathered her familiar strength at the sight of his cruel smile. She pushed past him and ran down the staircase to the main door in the foyer. She gripped the handle and pulled-

and pulled and pulled...

Nothing.

She looked up and saw that a wooden beam had been nailed over the door. She quickly turned her head at the sound of his treads. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled. "You have no right to keep me here! Let me go!"

"That was not part of the agreement," he calmly noted.

She scoffed, "What agreement? You took in my father against his will-"

"He stole a rose, if I recall. And you left without permission! That also was not part of the agreement!" he warned. His voice held a deadly edge.

So, she had attempted an escape. She glared at it. "And why am I still here?"

"By god, you hit your head but I didn't think you'd forget!" He stepped closer to her.

She didn't move away from the door.

"A lesson had to be learned, and oh, I admit, it took a long time for me to find you… but when I did-" He slammed his paw against the wooden slats barring the door. "I made sure you would stay here forever!"

She shook her head. "You can't make me!" she growled. She tried to slip past him again - to run and find another exit in this castle-

But his meaty paws gripped her arms, stopping her in her tracks.

She struggled to get away - admittedly growing more and more terrified as his grip tightened and his claws dug into her skin. She twisted and turned in his grip - her feet and hands assaulting him where she could reach. But she could only resist for so long...

He let her go with a growl and watched with satisfaction as she crumpled to her knees. "You see what I can do."

She straightened quickly and narrowly avoided the claw that was thrust at her face.

"You will obey, or you will face the worst of consequences."

She raised her head in defiance. "You will never keep me here. I will escape. I will be with my family again."

He let out a scoff. "What family? Your half-wit father? Or that selfish man and those peasant children?" He watched her with a sick fascination.

Her body suddenly felt incredibly light, and her world started to grow dark. She swallowed thickly. "No, you're lying-" she said, voice cracking.

The beast gestured to the stairs. "Follow the stairs to the highest tower and see for yourself." His blue eyes were almost dark as he smiled smugly, daring her.

She huffed and pushed him aside, dashing up the stairs.

Mrs Potts waited until the girl was out of earshot. She looked at the beast. "I've known you since you were a little boy… but you are a cruel being. She will never recover from this. She will die of a broken heart."

"A life sentence," he growled. "She made her choice."

Belle finally came upon the highest tower. Her heart jumped into her throat as she ascended the final staircase. She had no idea what to think, what scenarios to put in her mind… She had a faint hope that- oh, she did not wish to think about it, because if it was not true, her heart would break further.

She stepped into the doorway and-

Nothing. Just an empty balcony. She felt as if she couldn't catch her breath - and it wasn't from the thousand steps she just climbed. If it is empty, why would he want-

Her blood ran cold as she registered the balcony. "No…"

She stepped closer and closer and closer… and she saw a sight she wished she had never seen.

Screams of agony ripped through her. She sank to the floor, sobbing-

Her eyes flew open and she shot up in bed. Her chest heaved and her shoulders shook as she tried to control her breathing and shed those awful images- Oh, what a horrible night terror that had been!

It had all been so real… All of it! She had seen all that she loved so dearly in this world just gone!

She groaned - her body ached terribly. She shakily wiped at her eyes before reaching over to Gaston. She needed to know he was there. She needed to feel his warm presence. Perhaps she could wake him and tell him all she had dreamt. Yes, that sounded soothing.

Her hand hit warmth-

But this body was much, much larger than Gaston's.

Fear jolted through her and she was suddenly wide awake. Her heart jumped into her throat and a cold sweat broke out across her skin. She swallowed fearfully and slowly turned around-

The beast!

She let out a strangled gasp and tumbled to the floor - her legs tangled in the bed sheets. She had been sharing a bed with this monster! She tried in vain to hastily kick off the sheets and scramble away as the beast moved.

He had clambered across the bed on all fours by the time her feet were free.

She quickly stood and stumbled backwards until her back solidly hit the wall. She panted heavily - eyes wide and watching the beast's every move. She watched him step off the bed and stand before her on two legs.

He rose to his full height. His eyes were menacing and angry and brooding - the same as the day when she met him.

A scream began to bubble its way through her body as his eyes began to change from blue to black… The same lifeless black as that fateful day.

He let out an inhuman and menacing roar.

She let out a terrified scream when he lunged for her-

She woke with a petrified gasp. She hurriedly sat up and unconsciously scrambled backwards until she hit the headboard. She was panting heavily and her hands shielded her face - her entire body trembling.

"Belle?" Gaston was there, that hollow sound having pierced his slumber. He sat up and gently touched her arm.

She sharply gasped and recoiled from his touch like he was the monster.

He had never seen her so caught in a night terror. He had had his own share of those he couldn't escape.. but to see her suffering- He steeled himself and reached over, lighting the lamp. "Belle," he coaxed. "My love, can you hear me?"

She cried softly, still trembling from fear. What was it waiting for? Why did it torture her so? Why was it so sick wanting to watch her die of fright? She saw its shadow in the corner of her eye. She flinched and shielded it from her sight. "No, please, no…" she whimpered.

"Belle," Gaston repeated softly. He tried again at a gentle touch. "Belle, look at me." He kept repeating these words to her until her cries lessened.

Her hands were not lowered, but he watched her blink at her surroundings.

Her movements were twitched as her head turned. Her eyes took in everything- the warm wooden walls, the dresser beside the bed, the familiar books on a shelf, and the soft glow coming from the lamp. She swallowed tiredly and turned her head toward the other side of the bed.

A relieved sigh escaped her at the sight of her husband. In that instant, she was freed from the night terror's clutches. "Gaston," she breathed. Her emotions flooded her in a split second. "Oh, Gaston," she said again - this time, every fear and simultaneous relief she felt coated his name. She reached for him and wrapped her arms over his strong shoulders. She buried her face in his chest.

She inhaled his familiar scent and clung tighter. Fresh tears fell from her eyes and a sob bubbled over. She cried with overwhelming relief and exhaustion.

He clung to her just as tightly, finally relieved she was out of her dream. "Whatever you dreamt, it's over," he soothed. "It's over."

She nodded through her sobs.

He held her for a long while. He listened to her painful sobs and felt her moist tears on his skin. He continued to soothe her trembling frame with soft and warm words of comfort. Yet, he couldn't help but wonder what horrors had torn her apart.

He pressed a kiss to her temple. If he could spare her fear, he would. If there was anything that could be done so she will never have to endure this again, he would do it. In an instant. He would do anything for her - anything she requested.

...so when she finally pulled back, he silently asked her what she needed.

She let out a shaky breath. "My babies. I need to see my babies."

He nodded and helped her untangle from the bedsheets. He swiped her robe and held it open for her. Then he took up the lamp and guided her through the house.

They stopped at the boys' shared room. He looked at her and pressed his hand to her back. She swallowed, took the lamp from him, and opened the bedroom door.

She sharply inhaled. Her hand pressed to her mouth - her mind flooded with all she had seen.

Gaston winced. The last time he heard that sound was when little Thomas had been on the verge of death from illness. His heart ached - she must have witnessed the very worst thing a parent could endure in her night terror.

He watched her kneel beside each child's bed. He watched her hand hover over their faces, aching to caress their soft skin and assure herself that they were real.

When she knelt beside Cedric, he noticed her cheeks were stained with tears.

He did his best to offer a comforting smile when she returned to him. "They alright?" he whispered.

She nodded and wiped away her fallen tears. She passed him and opened the girls' bedroom door. She exhaled shakily and knelt beside Agatha.

Gaston watched her watery smile morph into a line as she was trying to hold back a sob. He watched her switch to Julia and swipe a finger against their daughter's soft skin.

"Safe and sound?" he offered when she returned to the doorway.

She nodded again - not trusting her voice. She gently closed the door behind her.

"Return to bed?"

She let out a heavy sigh but shook her head. "I cannot sleep. I do not want to sleep. I do not want to see any of it again." She looked at him with a small sad smile. "You go back to bed. I'll be fine."

He didn't like the idea of leaving her alone so soon after such a traumatic night terror… but he wasn't sure how much space she needed. He tried anyway, "Belle-"

She ran her hand through his hair and down to the cleft of his chin. "Please."

He caught her fingers and brought them to his lips. He held her gaze for a moment before obeying her wishes. "Alright…"

She watched him retreat to the bedroom and close the door behind him. She sighed heavily and went into the common room.

Her babies were untouched and very safe. Her husband was alive and as strong and sturdy as ever. Yet, she was afraid that this was all another cruel dream. She tried to control her breathing as the scenes from her night terror returned. She shook her head and refused to linger on the thought.

It had been nearly a week since Nathaniel and the children went to the castle. The shock of where and what they had seen hit her that night, and she thought those feelings would not linger.

But to her dismay, it brought up fears she'd long buried.

A sob escaped her. She gathered a pillow and cried into it, hoping it muffled her cries. But what she hoped beyond anything was that Gaston would not come to her. No, she needed time to work through this herself. She hoped he remembered their first real fight about night terrors; she would go to him when she was ready.


Gaston opened his eyes to the sunlight filtering through the window. He had a fitful sleep when he returned to bed - tossing and turning for most of the night before giving up and staying awake.

It had pained him not to go out and be a steady presence beside Belle. He had heard her muffled cries - the sound adding to his failed attempt at sleeping. He wanted nothing more than to go to her and allow his arms to swallow her, pull her close, and let her cry and scream and do anything else that got rid of her awful night terror.

But he had remembered the fight early on in their marriage about such a subject. She was battling this in her own way, and he had no choice but to respect her wish to be alone. The last thing he wanted to do was drive her away - again.

He sighed and threw back the covers. He haphazardly tied back his hair, found some decent clothes, and went into the common room.

He found her - curled on the sofa, a thick blanket draped over her small frame, the remnants of a fire in the hearth still clinging on, and an empty mug on the floor by her dangling hand.

He kept as quiet as he could and refueled the fire. The winter air had already leached into the room from the various cracks in windows and the roof. Which reminded him- he turned around and carefully set their spare bucket underneath the largest crack in the roof, ready to catch melted snow. He glanced at her and his chest hurt - he saw the distressed lines in her face even in her slumber. He knew she had not fallen asleep willingly; she had been exhausted.

He sighed and pulled back the curtains of the two windows. He paused for a moment, admiring the thick snow-covered hills. He lightly chuckled - their children will be begging to spend all day outside.

He turned at her soft tired groan. He offered her a sad, comforting smile when her brown eyes sought his. He took a breath and knelt in front of her, taking up her hand. "How are you feeling?" he treaded carefully. This question came so soon after her request to be left alone… he feared-

The guarded look in her eyes confirmed his thought.

He shook his head, dismissing what he just said, and offered another smile - a foolish smile admitting his mistake. "Forgive me, my love, I- I forgot myself." He tried to manage another one of those smiles. It took effort to move around the lump in his throat and the emotion that threatened to contort his face.

Belle watched his unwavering embarrassed smile and felt herself lightly match his. It was difficult but she felt comforted knowing he had retracted his question.

A slight weight lifted from Gaston at the sight of her smile. He nodded his head toward the window. "It snowed through the night. You know they will all be wanting to go out."

She gave a light laugh. "Yes." Then her smile slowly faded and she looked at him. He still knelt beside her. She noticed the scattered silver hairs of the past few years, the darkened circles underneath his solemn eyes, the quiet pull to the corner of his mouth. It seemed last night had aged him. She was not the only one to have suffered-

He saw her shift in mood. He shook his head. "Belle, listen to me." He squeezed her hand and carefully leaned into the open palm of her other when it rested against his cheek. "Do not think of me in this battle, my love. I will abide by your boundaries. I will be here when you ask of it. No matter when that may be, I will be beside you. Do not believe I am in pain, my love. I am not hurt in this battle."

She swallowed past the lump forming in her throat at his heartfelt words. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." He brought her hand to his lips then leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Now, would you like tea?"

She nodded. She caught his hand when he stood. "Thank you," she whispered. She lightly matched his comforting smile then watched him disappear into the kitchen. She sat up and tiredly leaned back into the sofa. She closed her eyes…

It seems she had survived the night. This 'reality' did not appear to be a dream. Still, she couldn't help but feel it begin to slip away. She sighed and pressed a hand to her forehead. She felt the seat dip beside her and herself lean to the side, landing against Gaston's solid form. Her insides warmed at the sound of his amused chuckle. She sat up and scooted close to him.

He handed her a steaming mug.

"Thank you."

He smiled and draped the quilt across their legs. She snuggled against him further, her head resuming its position on his shoulder. She smiled softly as his free hand rested on her thigh. She sighed - contently, which lightened her heavy heart a bit. "I love you."

"I love you too," he rumbled. He kissed the top of her head before resting his cheek against her. He sipped his tea, enjoying - he winced as that was not the right word - this time with her, just being close to her, being that bit of reality he hoped she could hang onto.

Despite the twist and turns of the night, the morning was turning out to be peaceful-

They heard a distant thunk followed by an aahh and a snicker.

Belle smiled and felt a small laugh escape… but her smile turned pained as she struggled to fight back the images of the night terror that threatened to creep in. Before exhaustion overtook her, she had tried to sort out if what 'reality' she was in was truly reality. It had been hard without Gaston beside her, telling her that it had all been a dream and none of it was real.

But… it had been real. She was there- at least, once long ago.

Every detail of the dream had been exactly as it was when she was taken prisoner. Every divot in the wallpaper, every claw mark on the floor, every shiny spot on Mrs Potts- it had been too real.

She mentally shook her head, trying to drive out all the details of that castle. No. There was no one else for her. She could not fathom life without Gaston and their children. She could not even bear to think how unhappy she would have been in that castle. A life of adventures, hardly. A life of solitude and a slow death.

This night terror had confirmed that… albeit her subconscious had placed Gaston and their children in peril. Her children… her sweet innocent babies who had the most brutal of endings. She grimaced at the mere words - a pained gasp escaping.

She gripped Gaston's hand suddenly - her knuckles cracking after hours of unuse. She had never felt more conflicted in her life. She needed him, yet she didn't.

Was she on the path to shutting him out? She tried to weigh her choices, but both equally hurt. She could confide and cling to him, but she would be unsatisfied with confirming for herself that this was not a dream. Or she could bide for more time but that left an eerie hollow feeling in her heart - a void that longed to be filled with his words that this was not a dream.

She let out a shaky breath, biting her lip when she felt his soft kiss against her head.

"My love."

She started out of her thoughts and registered the little boy standing in front of her, looking mighty unhappy from being woken up too early. Against her Cedric's mood, she smiled. "Oh, my baby, what happened?" she cooed, picking him up and settling him on her lap. She smoothed back his hair and kissed his forehead.

He settled on her chest with his head under her chin and his little fist clutching his blankie.

"We should put him in the girls' room until he's older," Gaston mused.

"We should. Despite her craziness, Atha is considerate."

"More than Thomas," he teased with a playful eyebrow at the boy who had scampered in shortly before, looking more eager than sheepish.

A rush of cold air whipped past them. Cedric shivered and let out a disgruntled noise. He burrowed deeper into his mama.

Agatha screeched out a gasp. "It's snowing!"

Belle met Gaston's eyes and smiled softly. Hearing the liveliness of her children brought a glimmer of hope back into her heart.

He kissed her temple before getting up just as Agatha appeared bouncing on one foot in front of them - her ankle was still healing and her bounciness wasn't helping. "It's snowing! Can we go out? CanweCanweCanwe?"

"Breakfast first, chores, and-" He tapped her thin material on her shoulder. "Warmer clothes."

"Chores?" she whined.

"Yes," he said with the same gusto she did.

"Whhyyyyy?"

"Because you will be too tired to do them later."

She hopped behind him as he went into the kitchen. "Can we- not have chores?"

He chuckled, "No."

She pouted. "Paaapaaa…"

"Agathaaa…" he matched.

Belle leaned her head back and looked up at her husband. She smiled at his soft kiss to her forehead. "Who's up?"

"Just Agatha and Thomas."

She hummed and continued to caress Cedric's hair. She kissed his head again.

Eventually - and oh so very long for Agatha - the family piled out onto the blanket of snow when all chores had been done - much to the chagrin of four out of seven children. Five scampered outside - yes, Julia was known to scamper every now and again. After all, she found the snow to be very poetic. One child wobbled behind, his hand in Gilbert's as he helped him down the slippery steps.

The sixth child- Belle looked over toward the side of the house. Nathaniel had just set up another block of wood on the chopping block.

She stood at the end of the steps that led into the house and watched him. She sighed guiltily. They had given him several sets of extra chores - his punishment for taking his brothers and sisters on that impromptu adventure. It had taken a week and a slight outburst from Julia to realize what had truly taken place...

She smiled sadly and walked towards the side of the house.

The teen pretended not to notice her, but his shoulders went rigid as he swung the axe down, chopping the wood in half. He set the next block down.

"Nathaniel."

He swung the axe.

Belle wrapped her coat tighter around herself. "Nathaniel."

He set up the next block of wood.

"Nathaniel, please."

He sighed and stepped back from the piece of wood and set the axe against the tree stump. It had been almost a week since he did what he did. A week of punishments that meant more chores, no free time, and hardly a word of praise - not even so much as a second glance - from his parents. He could only guess what his mother was going to say now. He just hoped it wasn't too burdensome.

She nodded toward the house. "Come join me on the porch."

He didn't move for a moment - afraid he had heard her wrong. Then again, her voice had been kind and… soft.

But she held out her hand to him. "Come on."

He stepped closer but put his hands in his pockets. He watched her lower her hand and then followed her to the steps of the house. He sat beside her and waited for the niceties to end. To hear what else he needed to do to earn their love again.

She sighed and ran a motherly hand through his messy hair - unruly and long like Gaston's some days. He snorted and pulled away a little when he realized she was smoothing it back like she was fixing it.

"There's that familiar smile," she said softly. She briefly held his chin and swiped at his dimples. Then she watched his smile fade. She sighed sadly. "I realize we've been too hard on you, Nathie. You didn't deserve everything we put you through."

His shoulders slumped a little with relief. He looked at her and offered a bit of a smile that didn't yet reach his eyes. Then he shrugged, "It's okay, Mama. You were right. I-I should have known better-"

"But you're just a boy. We lost sight of that," she admitted.

"I shouldn't have betrayed your trust…"

She sighed heavily. "Yes. But it's done. And we all have something to learn from this - not just you."

He nodded.

"Your punishment is over."

The distant squeals of his siblings playing seemed to intensify at that news. Nathaniel felt the corner of his mouth lift slightly at the thought of joining them. Then it faded again.

Belle moved her head and tried to get Nathaniel to look at her. She put her hand on his knee when he didn't look up. She squeezed him lightly. "I need you to promise me you will never do anything like that again. Not without our permission."

He still didn't look up, but he nodded. Truthfully, he was afraid to see that calm anger in her eyes. He still didn't quite trust the softness of her voice.

"Nathaniel," she prompted.

"I promise," he said. He looked out at the field and saw Agatha sculpt a barrier near the tree. Then his gaze moved to Thomas who was doing the same near a boulder. He turned at the soft squeeze at his shoulder. He met his mother's eyes.

"I love you, Nathie."

He looked down for a moment.

"What you did did not change my love for you." She squeezed him again. "We were disappointed in what you had done, but we never stopped loving you." Her hand moved to his hair again. She fluffed it again, a light sad smile on her face. "It breaks my heart that we did not think to tell you this. I am so very sorry, my Nathie."

He offered a small half-smile after a long moment. He gave a nod, realizing he was fighting around a lump in his throat.

Belle matched his sad smile and pulled him into a hug-

-he stopped fighting back the tears that threatened to fall and clung to her as he cried. He allowed himself to let go of all the uncertainties and thoughts and wonderings of just how welcomed he was in his family- everything he had carried on his young shoulders for seven days. He sobbed into her shoulder and savored the smooth, calming circles his mama rubbed on his back. These past seven days, but that's what it was now. In the past - something he would never see or feel again.

She kissed his head and held him tightly. A few tears escaped from the corner of her eyes as her son let go. She wiped away his tears and fixed his hair one more time.

He snorted again and messed it up again when she put her hand down. He gave a small smile and stood to join his brothers and sisters-

Then Gaston stepped from the house.

Nathaniel paused - unsure if his mama's apology really was from both of them. He watched his papa offer a sad apologetic smile. The moment he matched it, he was taken up in a firm hug. He closed his eyes and felt the tension fade away. And he smiled when his papa told him, "Go, have fun."

And he slowly joined the playful scene, unsure where he was welcomed. He managed a small smile when Julia threw a badly formed snowball at him and it splattered his front.

"I told him his punishment was over," Belle said quietly.

Gaston nodded. Then he sighed, "We've been too hard on him."

"We have."

They watched their oldest boy and oldest girl duck behind the tree to avoid their siblings' incoming snowballs.

Despite their disgruntled beginning - on Nathie's part - Julia and he had grown to be inseparable. It was Julia that bridged the peace between them and Nathaniel during the past week of punishments. It was her that stayed awake, long after all the others had gone to bed, to make sure her brother came in from the cold in one piece. It was her who would keep him company on his extra chores - occasionally sneaking him half of her lunch when he left home without his. It was her who told him that Mama and Papa loved him, no matter how much work he was given.

Belle and Gaston may have been wrong in their punishments, but they were right in raising their kids.

Belle moved to the top step of the porch and watched her family enjoy the falling snow. She rested her elbow on her knee, her chin cradled in her palm, a soft smile on her face. It still did not reach her eyes.

Gaston was hesitant - afraid of pressuring her to speak to him, afraid he'd push her away. He let go of a breath and sat down beside her. He didn't speak for a long moment.

Despite his struggle, the silence between them was comfortable. He rested his hand on her lap and she looped her arm through his. She rested her cheek on his shoulder and sighed sadly.

"Are you-" He cleared his raspy voice. "Are you afraid this is another night terror?"

She let out a one-beat chuckle - still amazed that he could read her so well after all these years. She tightened her grip on his arm, her eyes sliding shut as her fears threatened to surface. "Yes." She let go of a shaky breath. "I'm afraid this bliss is nothing but a cruel dream. I'm afraid I am back at the castle with that-" She stopped talking - her throat closing as that thought was breached.

Gaston squeezed her leg. Well, he inadvertently found out what her night terror was about... He reassured her she did not have to continue. "In your own time, my love," he whispered.

She nodded against his shoulder. "Thank you," she whispered. Then she felt him shift as if he wished to stand. She kept her hold on his arm. "Please. I am content for you to stay here for a bit."

"Of course." He settled once more.

And they watched their children play.

Agatha threw a snowball squarely against Julia's back and the older let out a shriek. Thomas chucked his at Gilbert. Agatha dramatically dove behind the tree, Jonathan giving a hoot when his snowball clipped her shoe. Thomas put a formed snowball in Cedric's hand and showed him how to throw it.

But when snow started falling, there was a unanimous time-out to their game.

Julia stretched her arms out and tried to catch a snowflake in her mouth. Agatha ran/limped in circles - her healing ankle started to be a bother. Cedric copied his sister and stretched his little arms out, trying to catch the falling snow in his little hands, Gilbert lied on his back and let the snow pile on him. Then he oofed when Cedric lost his balance and landed on him. Meanwhile, Jonathan and Thomas took this opportunity to stock up for when the game resumed.

Belle held out her hand and watched the snowflakes cling to her skin. Gaston watched the little flakes stuck to her hair, the sun glinting off them, and making her shine and sparkle - giving her a heavenly look. It was her beauty that had him wondering what good graces had he done in the world to deserve her…

Nathaniel stood and watched his family - a smile slowly lighting his face, forgiving his parents, forgiving himself. He smiled at Julia as she squealed that she caught a snowflake. Agatha gasped as she found a nice big pile of snow. Julia and Nathaniel help her scoop it up and take it back to their tree.

Then the battle ensued when Thomas' snowball splattered Agatha's front. She gave an indignant squeak and hurled a ready-made ball at him.

Soon it seemed, supplies were running low and it didn't help that Thomas' arm had a vengeance - getting all three of his targets thrice in less than one minute!

"Mama! We need reinforcements!" Julia laughed through the pummeled snow.

Belle nudged Gaston to go. He nudged her back.

"They're calling you not me," he grinned.

"Mama!"

"Hey! No fair!" Gilbert complained suddenly.

The three boys looked over at their parents. "Papa!" Thomas exclaimed.

Husband and wife nudged each other again then looked at each other with matching expressions. They stood from the porch and started for their respective forts.

"Belle."

She turned around. "Hm?" Then she squeaked at the snowball that splattered against her chest, splashing her face with cold chunks of ice. "Gaston!" she exclaimed in a shrill scream.

His laughter filled her ears and the warmth of happiness spread throughout her. Yet another hope that this was not a dream after all.

She watched him gather another ball of snow. "Oh, no you don't!" she warned with a raised finger. She wrapped her coat around herself and scurried to the tree. "No! Wait! Wait!" She squeaked again when the snowball hit her side. She ducked behind the fort and gathered up snow.

Their fun game was a nice break from Belle's troubles... but it was still not quite enough to convince her.


Supper had soon come and gone, and Belle stepped up to the wash basin to clean the dishes. She saw Gaston's form come into her peripheral view. She looked over at him and offered a small sad smile. "I am feeling a little better, but I need to distract myself," she said quietly. "It's alright."

He stepped closer and put a hand to her hip. He kissed her head. "If you're sure," he whispered.

She nodded. She gave another small smile when he squeezed her gently, and then he was gone.

Gaston stepped into the bedroom. He knelt beside the bed and pulled out a small box. A box he hadn't touched in sixteen years. He sat back and opened it-

Two horns.

The two horns he so selfishly carved out of the beast's head after it attacked them…

...after Belle had killed it.

His finger brushed over the hollowed bone. He gave a tense sigh - a sigh filled with guilt, regret, and repulsion. He cursed under his breath.

He had been so naïve, so arrogant, so selfish! to put his pride first rather than hers! He truly had learned so much all these years.

He snapped the box shut and gripped it tightly. He shook his head. He should have never done this. He should not have ignored her wishes that day.

But there he had been - a total disregard of the pain she endured for her father. He couldn't believe he had seen the beast as a prize because of its exquisiteness. In that moment, despite protecting her, he hadn't really cared about her at all. She had argued with him for a week begging him not to display the horns anywhere in the house.

So he hid them away. And it took sixteen damn years to come to his senses.

He stood and snatched up his satchel. He slipped the box inside. Then he returned to the kitchen. "There are some things I need to do. I'll be back soon," he bid quietly - his words only meant for her ears.

She looked up from the dishes and noted his solemnness. "Okay."

He rode Alerion until he reached the cliff where he and Lefou had dragged the beast's dead body sixteen years ago. The edge still looked the same as it did back then- The grass that added fuel to the fire they lit under the dead creature had never grown again.

He glanced down at the surface below. Even after years of winds and storms, few charred remains and bones could still be seen… that is, if one knew what had been thrown over the edge all those years ago.

He took the box out of his satchel, opened it, and dumped the contents over the edge. He watched them find their home on the soft dirt below, rolling slightly until stopped by a few rocks. He looked away for a moment then back again.

No one could tell what was rock and what wasn't.

He returned home.

Belle looked up from her warm blanket and hot tea cocoon at the sudden intrusion of cold air.

Gaston stepped in with an apologetic smile and quickly closed the door. "It started snowing again," he said, patting off the snow that had gathered on his shoulders.

"Well, mind my rug," she warned. Then, with a sharp pang to her heart, she realized what a giant step that had been. How she was closer to truly believing this was not a dream… that her husband and her rug were real.

She managed a bit of a smile at Gaston's soft squeeze to her shoulder when he passed her. She took a deep breath then a sip of her tea. Perhaps it was all true-

Perhaps this - her tired children who were adamantly denying they were tired and who were busying themselves so they could stay awake longer, and her husband who was there, his fingers at her shoulder with his soft touch - was real.

She cleared her head of her musings and smiled softly at him. She noticed he had her favorite book in his hand. "Going to read to me?"

He snorted. "No, to everyone." He settled in the armchair across from her. "Only if you will play the part of the lovely Juliet."

Her smile grew just a little more. "I will."

"Can I play Mercutio?" Agatha shot up from her game of cards with Gilbert.

Thomas grumbled for the hundredth time. "But you always play him! I want to play him this time!"

Agatha sent him a disapproving look. "Can you dramatically die?!" She stared him down.

The boy was silent for a long while. Then, "... no."

She grinned triumphantly, "Then I shall play him!"

"Can I play Lady Capulet?" Julia requested with a dramatic flair. She and her friend Ruby might have been reciting the play a little too much these days.

"Tybalt!" Thomas and Gilbert said in unison. They stopped and looked at each other - though stared down might have been a more appropriate term.

"You played Tybalt last time!" Gilbert reminded him.

"But Agatha played Mercutio last time too, and she gets to be him again," Thomas argued. "You can play Friar Laurence-"

"You're both excellent Tybalts," Belle interrupted. "Thomas, let your brother have a chance-"

"Mama!" he complained. "But!"

"No buts, you've been Tybalt the last three times."

Thomas sulked. "Fine."

Gilbert grinned.

By Act II - which was an act longer than Belle and Gaston guessed - mostly everyone had begun to snooze. Cedric had fallen asleep a long time ago on Gaston's lap.

They gently roused everyone and of course were met with several 'keep reading, I'm not tired's. The older children had to walk- no, sorry - trudge to their rooms while the youngsters got carried. And Gaston being Gaston, so strongly carried two children at one time.

Belle gave him a stern look when he passed her.

Soon, when all their children were safely tucked in bed, she remained in the doorway not quite ready to leave the view before her. She wanted to take in the view of her babies just in case this reality was not the one she was meant to be in.


Gaston noticed her hesitant steps into their bedroom.

She sat on the bed and remained sitting, afraid to lie down… afraid exhaustion would sneak up on her again. She watched Gaston do the same - sit, just a reach away.

He was quiet, and he was patient.

She swallowed. Her strategy, her goal to make sense of her night terrors on her own had not truly worked. There were instances where she felt that this was her reality, but she still feared that all of this was-

She looked away, hoping the train of thought would dissipate. The bed shifted and she turned - watching him reach over to the oil lamp beside the bed. He blew out the flame.

...she gave a small, sad smile in the darkness. Telling a painful story was always easier when you couldn't see the other's face…

She took a breath.

"I… I see all of you. Dead," she whispered in the darkness. She heard his sharp intake of breath. She wrapped her arms around herself, afraid to reach out to him, afraid to feel something that could be ripped from her heart again. She took a shaky breath, "It's been a struggle all day. I can't-" She shut her eyes tight. "I still can't find it in myself to believe-" She shook her head. "That night terror was so real. It has made me question, did I really escape that night? Or is this all a dream?"

He sighed - what could he say? What was there to say? He let his silence prompt her to continue.

"I woke up tied to the bed, like a prisoner. I got up and- and the servants were there, just as I remember them. Only-" Her tightly shut eyes softened. "-their pitied look, there was something different about it. It wasn't the same as it had been when they returned Papa to the village. Like they knew something I didn't.. like they dreaded telling me." She paused, collecting her wits. "I looked out the window and saw the rope I had used to escape… It was torn to shreds, like some wild animal had caught it in a fit of rage." Her breath hitched and she felt the bed shift like Gaston moved to soothe her then caught himself. Her heart hurt with how much he respected her wishes.

How much he remembered their first fight - their mutual understanding that the other would come around when they were ready.

She continued, "The servants told me I tried to escape." She shook her head and her voice changed - coated in disbelief and anger, the volume steadily increasing. "It didn't make sense- one moment, they told me I never left and the next- that beast is telling me how I ran off and thought I could escape, that I could hide behind that family- that family that he-" A high-pitched gasp cut her off.

A gasp that scrubbed Gaston's chest raw. Still, he did not reach out… no, she had to be the one to do so.

She shook her head, quickly, her face contorting in the darkness. She reached and gripped his hand, letting out a small thankful cry when he gripped hers just as tightly. "I told him I didn't belong there. I told him it was all a dream! That I found a life- that I had been given a second chance when I so foolishly almost threw my happiness away for some stupid adventure!" She let out a sob and a few hot tears rolled down her cheeks. "He couldn't keep me there- I would escape…"

Her words trailed off slowly, quietly. Her heart hurt, her throat threatened to suffocate her if she even bid those horrible thoughts entrance into her mind, let alone speak them. But… perhaps, if she spoke them, the godawful weight on her chest would loosen, the burden of fear would lift - even if it was only slightly. She let out a breath and pulled at Gaston's hand-

If she clung to him, if she breathed in his scent, if she listened to his heartbeat, if she closed her eyes and soaked in the feeling of safety his arms provided… maybe, just maybe, he could share her woes and this madness…

… would be nothing more than a dream.

He held her tightly. He kissed her head and waited.

"The highest tower- overlooking the castle grounds…" She exhaled heavily into his skin and tightened her grip on his strength. "I can't speak of what I saw, but it was- it was a death as inhuman as that beast's soul." Her throat constricted and she felt ill as the image of what she saw flashed behind her eyelids. Her sob curled into a gag - hot tears fell from her eyes and onto his skin.

Her body convulsed with every heart-wrenching cry. Her sobs detailing the immense pain she had kept hidden all day, detailing how much she wished to be held, to be heard, to be seen. Agony gripped at her core-

His tiny kiss to her shoulder was like the twinkling candles villagers held at funerals. Candles whose flames tried so hard to fight the inviting dark void. Candles that tried to chase away fear of being alone, fear of the unknown. His tiny kiss - fighting against her agony as if it were nothing more than storm clouds that loomed after a tragedy. The unerasable image in the sky.

Time passed slowly, but his kiss brought her to another reality she must face. She let out a shaky breath, drawing strength from his simple act.

"I thought-" Her throat was raw. She swallowed and sniffled. "I thought I woke up… I really did." She shook her head and held on tighter. She shifted, resting her cheek on his shoulder, her face against the side of his neck - his scent tainted with the salt of her tears. She closed her eyes. This night terror had been the hardest to overcome…

It's made me question if I truly never left that castle... She wiped at her moist cheeks and slung her arm over his shoulder, hooking her elbow around his neck. She swallowed against the tears that resurfaced as she prepared to speak again. He pressed another tiny kiss to her salty skin.

"I woke, only- I was not, you were not-" Her sob curled into a whimper. "It was there- with its black eyes- a monster-"

The images flashed behind her eyelids. She let go of the same frightened gasp she had that morning and suddenly fiercely clung to him.

Tears built up behind her eyes and a painful lump formed in her throat again. Her cries overflowed again as she felt the stab of immeasurable pain in her heart - had she not been successful? Had she shared her pain only to receive no relief in return? Did the cuts travel deeper than she had imagined?

Was she to live like this for a long while? Was this feeling of powerlessness and helplessness going to rule her?

What kind of life would that lead her? What would her children grow up to see-

Their mother unstable and unable to separate dream from reality-

An agonized sob cut her off and she clung to Gaston. She trembled - she couldn't let her children see her this way, she couldn't let her husband down either. Perhaps insanity really did run in her family…

Her cries, her small screams, tore her throat raw. She battled everything she endured that long day.

Then-

A sudden new sensation washed over her-

A feeling of floating-

Of being lighter than air...

Emotion surfaced - an emotion that matched all she hadn't allowed herself to feel the day Gaston rescued her from the pack of wolves. An emotion that bloomed into words indescribable but oh so close to-

Thankful. Grateful.

The scales were not tipped yet, but she felt the weight dislodge from her chest. A crack felt deep in her soul.

The frown on her brow settled slowly as the blackened mar on her heart melted.

Sobs that had commanded control of her, quieted to a slow breath, a minor hiccup, a minor distraction. Her grip on him loosened…

A feeling of floating.

Worries she voiced, fears she revealed, terrors she whispered, tragedies she thought would befall her children as their mother went mad… Intangible wisps that flew around her, their faces still leering, but the power they once wielded-

Trivial. Insignificant.

The scales tipped.

An unimposing stream of darkness enveloped her. A gentle rumble that banished remaining terrors into the night.

Because that's all it had been.

A night terror.

This was her reality. Her children, her husband. She was not insane nor would she ever be. Her children would be alright. Her husband would always be there to steady her. She finally allowed herself to let go. To fall into a deep sleep, knowing the steady rumble shielded her from danger.

.x.

Long after she fell asleep, Gaston continued to gently rock her and sing the lullaby his mother sang to him long ago.

A song to chase the night terrors away.


A/N: I did not detail the manner in which Belle saw them all dead because I see it as a personal choice - how cruel do you imagine this story's Beast to be?

I also snuck in a Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince reference - again - if anybody wants to know ;)

I wanted to write more details in their snowball fight but I felt it would mess up Belle's road-to-recovery. And I didn't want to write her happy then write her unhappy again :/ But I did make a note that there should be a snowball fight chapter! x)

Oh, I've also been working on a Twelfth Night (Shakespeare) fanfic, so if any of you found my writing to be extra poetic and/or choppy, that's why x) That and I listened to sad music while writing that last bit.

Lastly, I'm also working on a chapter about the argument they had about the horns. Of course, I don't know when y'all will be seeing that one...

Hope to see you lovelies again soon!